Life, Love, and Math

"who is god

who is edward snowden

who is snowden

facebook me if you need anything.

i didn't know they made a gif of how good i am at friendship.

and at headbutting. that also.

There is no Saint Jessica.

(Ask my confirmation teacher.)

 -

I was officially named after my grandfather Farmer James

(dead years before my birth).

My city-raised father vetoed “Jamie” for “Jessica” (and called me Jessie Bear)

because the only Jamies he knew were bad little black boys

            But he raised a bad little white girl instead.

 -

I didn’t know Converse were invented

to let bad little black boys hop chainlink Dirty Water fences

He told me this through his suit and his tie and his CPA

and he was disappointed that

                      I never knew.

But he was the one who named me Jessica in the first place.

 -

Along with every other parent within a 200-mile radius of 1992.

Jessi escaped elementary classroom confusion into

elementary rebellion

(what does a rebel in the fourth grade even do?)

 -

Eventually a.j. was a better fit

for the bad little white girl who disappointed her parents anyway.

While little-girl Jessi

(winner of Presidential Award for Academic Excellence)

got put in the principal’s office for trivial matters

           [“You’re not a loser. Don’t talk down to yourself.”

           “I have one friend. That’s the definition of loser.

                      I’m fine with who I am.”]

a.j.

(failure extraordinaire)

spent time in In School Suspension

her right to Free Appropriate Collateral Damage

            [“You don’t hear me, my parents don’t care, and

                                 the police don’t believe me.

                      Try me. See if I don’t run.”]

I got suspended twice in one week for running away from school.

But that’s what you get for raising a bad little white girl

even if she goes by a.j. instead of Jamie.

 -

I outgrow a name every few years

as I outgrow the things that made me Jessie Bear and Jessi and a.j.

Professionally, I’m Jessica

(that’s Miss Jessica to you

           and if you stop biting me I’ll give you an M&M)

and I don’t know where I’m going next.

I never really do.

 -

There is no Saint Jessica.